Settlement
by AVMabs
Summary: Mono can't mend broken hearts, but it can give them a push in the right direction. Oneshot. Gen.


**Rating: **K  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Vomiting  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Mono doesn't mend broken hearts, but it can give them a push in the right direction. (Set just after Silly Love Songs.)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I don't own Glee.

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><p>Kurt was furious. No, he was more than furious; he was completely and utterly livid – his stomach was rolling with nausea, and his head was swimming and he wanted to yell but he couldn't get the words out. It was no coincidence that those were also the symptoms of Mono. Stupid Finn and Quinn and their dumb tongues and <em>stupid <em>Kurt for letting Finn drink from his water bottle when he knew Finn was a slob and was probably carrying some sort of rare yet contagious syndrome that had not yet manifested.

Kurt groaned and buried his head under his pillow, which was nice – for about a minute, but then he had to surface again for air. He groaned slightly more loudly, cursing Finn for his stupid infected saliva; and whilst he was on the topic of saliva, it was rapidly gathering in his mouth. Kurt launched from the bed, staggered into the bathroom and emptied his stomach, making frustrated 'ugh' noises between heaves, then sank to his knees and rested his forehead on the cool porcelain, still allowing the frustrated moan to float from his mouth between convulsive swallows. He had almost lulled himself to sleep when he was ripped from his refuge by a steady knocking.

"Don't come in," he warned, just barely lifting his head from the toilet seat to glare at the door.

There was a brief affirming noise from outside and then: "No, honey, I'm not going to," Carole said.

Kurt grunted his thanks and laid his head back on the toilet seat with another moan as he began to heave; barely registering the fact that he couldn't hear any retreating footsteps.

"Honey?"

During a second-long reprieve, Kurt managed to gargle out a "go" and was intensely frustrated when – once again – she didn't leave. After what seemed an hour, Kurt flushed the toilet and curled in on himself.

"Honey, I'm coming in now, okay?"

Kurt groaned loudly. "My pyjamas are _plaid, _Carole."

Carole laughed from outside. "Your dad and brother don't even wear pyjamas half the time. I'm coming in."

And then she was in the bathroom, and handed him a glass of water and stuck a thermometer in his mouth and rubbed his back and in that moment Kurt couldn't possibly believe that Finn and Carole were related because clearly Carole had the gene for _managing _illness and Finn just had a gene for the irresponsible spreading of it. The thermometer beeped, prompting Kurt to take it out of his mouth so that his mouth could fall into the scowl that it so badly needed to fall into.

Carole looked at it and made a noise of vague disapproval. "Yeah, you've got a fever."

"That's your son's fault. Tell him to keep his tongue to himself," Kurt huffed, squinting to try and see the numbers on the thermometer.

"I don't think he and Quinn wanted to get sick any more than you did." Carole smoothed down a particularly errant clump of Kurt's hair as he grumbled something about 'maybe Finn shouldn't have opened a kissing booth if he didn't want the kissing disease.'

Carole chuckled and helped Kurt to his feet, steadying him as he swayed slightly. "I want you and Finn in the same room during the day so that you can keep an eye on each other, okay?" Kurt opened his mouth to argue, but Carole silenced him with a single look. "Your dad told me about The Pneumonia Incident of 2009; I don't want to come home and find that your spleen's ruptured or something this time, okay?"

Kurt sighed. "Fine," he huffed, "but I get the couch."

"I'm sure we can make that happen."

By the time they got downstairs, Kurt's face had an odd transparent tint to it and he was staggering like a new born colt in winter. Carole hurried him into the living room and onto the couch before he could pass out. Finn's head snapped up and he grimaced, his hand gripping his neck.

"How's your throat, Finny?" Carole asked gently, one hand still pressed to Kurt's forehead.

Finn shrugged and curled into a ball on his chair, evidently too sick or too tired to attempt to speak. He pointed at Kurt and looked up at Carole questioningly.

"He's got what you've got."

Kurt glared at Finn; he was, in his defence, making a very convincing apologetic face. Kurt softened slightly and rolled over, allowing Carole to pull a blanket over him. She patted Kurt on the shoulder and then took Finn's temperature, making a face at the reading.

"I have to go to work, boys; look after each other and _call me _if anything happens, okay?"

Two non-committal grunts and Carole was out of the door, leaving the boys alone in their wallowing. Hours passed without either of them speaking, though either boy was inclined occasionally to get up and vomit at any given time, leaving the other to drag himself up to try and produce a glass of water for the current vomitee and then trudge back to his blankets.

"So, uh…" Finn started, and then massaged his throat and grimaced.

Kurt rolled his eyes and pulled himself off the couch, padding to the kitchen to retrieve a pen and a pad of paper.

'_I can't speak either. Write on here,' _he wrote, and handed the paper to his brother, who was looking at the paper with slight apprehension in his features.

'_did i give this 2 u?'_

Kurt nodded and pulled his blankets closer around him.

'_wen?'_

'_Two Thursdays ago, when you drank from my water bottle."_

Finn sighed and dragged his hand over his face, letting it rest there as he breathed heavily into it. Kurt scribbled something on the pad and held it up to Finn, who didn't move his hand, evidently immersed in thought. Kurt sighed and threw a pillow at him. Finn jumped, looking as though he'd been caught in the headlights.

'_It's fine. What are you beating yourself up about?'_

Finn shrugged and curled in on himself, making a feeble attempt at hiding the way his jaw was working not to let the dam break.

"Finn," Kurt whispered.

Finn reached for the pad. '_u. dave. rachel. quinn + sam. evry1.' _ His face crumpled slightly, and he laid his hand over it again.

Kurt made a gentle sympathetic noise, scooted over on the couch and patted the space next to him. Finn looked at Kurt with caution, then shrugged and dragged himself over to the space Kurt had made for him, wrapping three blankets around him like a cape. Kurt edged slightly closer.

"C'mere," he whispered, opening one of his arms up. Finn fell into it, letting Kurt pat at his right arm as he tried to take some deep breaths and calm down.

When he was sufficiently satisfied that Finn was calmer, and could once again read, Kurt picked up the pad of paper and scribbled: _'Nothing to do with Karofsky was your fault. It's Rachel's own fault she's upset because she was the one who cheated on you. Making out with Quinn was a dumb choice but she made a dumb choice in kissing you back. It's okay. You're okay.'_

Finn sighed and moved closer to Kurt, hanging off his words like they were a lifeline. When Burt came home that night, he found the boys tangled up together, fast asleep, holding each other protectively and – okay – Kurt's fever was apparently up from the morning and he clearly had a long week or two ahead of him, but there was a tension gone from Kurt and a tension gone from Finn.

He reached out to shake Kurt awake, but Finn blinked his eyes open and laid an intercepting hand across Kurt's shoulder.

"Burt," he mumbled, "Kurt only just conked out. Let him be."

Kurt snored gently. Burt snorted. "Guess you're right, kiddo." He patted Finn on the shoulder. "You could go up to bed now, if you wanted. I can keep an eye on Kurt."

Finn made to get up, but Kurt was curled into him like a baby kitten, and he sat back with a sleepy smile. "It's okay, Burt. We'll keep an eye on him together."

Burt smiled, an odd glint in his eye, and settled on the armchair. "You're a good kid, Finn."

Finn gave a quiet grunt and shuffled closer to Kurt, already asleep again.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I don't really know where this came from and it definitely wasn't the ending I'd planned, but it felt right and whilst I'm not _happy, _per se, I'm not cringing (yet!)

So that leaves me to ask:  
>Where do you think I could improve?<br>Please let me know, if you feel like it, and thank you so much for reading!


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